Expect the Unexpected
by Lady of Em
Summary: Eoin and Alex are a mother and daughter struggling to get by in Boston. When Alex wishes for them to be in Middle Earth, and they find themselvs there, how will Eoin react? Will the stressed mom find love in the middle of all her worries? OC/Eomer romance
1. Chapter 1

She heard the key slide into the lock with a familiar muted clicking noise, and the knob wiggle. There was a muffled exclamation, a small thump, the door swung open quickly, and a skinny girl of about eleven years of age tumbled inside. Her delicate porcelain features still held a slight annoyed scowl over her trouble with the fickle door lock that kept their small apartment safe, her cheeks tinted a soft pink, a ridge forming between her dark eyebrows. The jeans she wore were slightly too small and too short for her - half an inch of pink sock was visible, and the bulky red sweatshirt she wore just a shade too large. The dark brown eyes that were framed by thick lashes were half-closed in thought, her small lips pressed together in a firm line. Then she saw her mother and all the tension went out of her narrow shoulders.

"Hey, Mom." the girl sighed, slumping onto a chair and sliding her scuffed blue backpack off her shoulders. She hung it on the chair lopsidedly, and buried her face in her hands. Her dark brown hair was pulled tightly back in a French braid, but a few curls had come loose, and framed her small face prettily.

Her mother, an auburn haired woman with striking cobalt eyes, was washing dishes. The hiss of the hot water and the muffled clink of dishes being brought together lightly soothed the young girl, and she lifted her head from her hands. Her mother was still wearing her work uniform, which meant she had only just come home and was still tired from her long, thankless shift at a local diner. The young woman who had raised her half turned, a small, weary smile twitching one corner of her mouth.

"Hey, kiddo." she said. Her short-cropped red hair barely touched her collar, and she ran a soapy hand through her hair and tucked an invisible lock of hair behind her ear automatically. It was a gesture the girl knew well, as her mother repeated it several times a day. "How was school?" she questioned, turning back to the dishes. She asked this every day, and her daughter always gave her the same answer.

"School sucks." the girl complained, dropping her head back onto the gray Formica countertop again. In a voice that was muffled by her small hands, she kept talking. "Jeanie made fun of my clothes again today."

The subtle tightening of her mother's shoulders and the way her jaw clenched slightly did not go unnoticed by the girl. "It's okay, though. I told her to go away and I said that I wear them because I want to and because I'm trying to start a new trend."

Her shoulders relaxed, and her jaw loosened. "Good girl, Alex! Next time, don't let her get to you, okay? Jeanie has no fashion sense at all; I mean, what girl wears forty dollar shoes and a gallon of hairspray when they're only twelve?"

Despite herself, Alex let a giggle slip past her lips. Her bangs formed upside down Vs on her creamy forehead as she raised her head again, and her dark eyes smiled at her pretty mother. "Yeah, I guess." she said, getting off the kitchen stool and going over to the cabinet. She opened several cabinets and threw them shut again like she always did, and exhaled a huff of warm air that tousled her bangs. "What's for dinner?"

Her mother wiped her hands on the lacquered red apron that she was still wearing and opened the oven. A tantalizing smell of cornbread and some kind of spice that tickled in inside of Alex's nose wafted out, and Alex's eyes lit up. "Tex Mex? **Awesome**!" she said happily. Her mother's trademark grin - the kind that pushed the side of her mouth into a dimple and made her cobalt blue eyes crinkle merrily - flashed brightly at her.

"It's Friday, hon. Paycheck day." she said, slipping two patched oven mitts onto her hands and taking out a small casserole dish. "I thought I'd splurge and get us a nice dinner for once. Can you set the table?" she asked, setting the cracked yellow crockery down on the countertop.

Alex went over to the silverware drawer and opened it gingerly - the bottom was falling out in one corner, which caused it to be stuck quite a bit. It was one of the many things on a seemingly endless list of menial tasks that needed to be fixed around the small apartment. She dug through the mismatched silverware and found two forks and two knives that matched, and set them on the kitchen table, which slanted slightly to the left. In lee of the usual cloth placemats, she unrolled a red checkered tablecloth and draped it over the lopsided table, stepping backwards to eye it critically. She adjusted the length of it to be sure it was even, then set two plates and two glasses down on the slanted surface. Her mother ducked under the sink and withdrew a stump of a candle and a scorched wooden trivet for the casserole dish. She lit the waxy stub with a flourish and flicked the lights off.

"Are we in Gordinions, Mom?" Alex asked in a ceremonial whisper. There was another quick, dimpled smile from her mother, who took off her red apron, slung it over the back of a chair, and sat down. Now she was wearing her tan work uniform, with the cheerful yellow rooster embroidered on the sleeve.

"Yes, and the waiter just served us a square of our favorite dish." her mother said seriously. This was their favorite game - to pretend they were in a fancy restaurant, eating a dish they both loved, and dressed in fancy, sumptuous clothes. When a square of Tex Mex (which was a kind of chili topped with a thick wedge of cornbread) was perched innocently on each plate, Alex and her mother clinked their glasses together.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle." her mother said cheerfully. "Alex, say grace."

Alex ducked her head obediently, her dark hair falling over her eyes and rippling over one shoulder. Her black lashes met and they curled sweetly against each cheek. "Thank you Father God for providing us for the delicious meal, and thank you that you gave Mom her paycheck today so we can have Tex Mex. Thank you for not making me be mad at Jeanie today. In Jesus' name, Amen."

They dug into the hot food, steam wreathing the plates and causing the candle flame to flicker. After a minute of devouring the steamy food, Alex got up and opened the dented refrigerator. She took out a plastic jug of apple juice and poured a small bit into her mother's glass. "More champagne, madam?" she asked with a clumsy English accent. Her mother didn't bat an eye, just sipped her apple juice and graced her daughter with a royal smile.

"It's a very good year, waiter." she said, and then her composure shattered as the two of them burst out laughing. Alex sat down again and cut off a triangle of cornbread with the edge of her fork.

"So how did work go?" Alex asked. Her mother sighed and rubbed the back of her neck unconsciously.

"Oh, you know how it is. Mr. Meyer told me I didn't serve the customers fast enough because I was too busy flirting, yadda yadda yadda." Her mother said. Alex's heart swelled with pride. Her mom was by far the coolest mom at school. She was single, unlike most of the other moms, and Alex had once caught one of the eleventh graders calling her mom "hot". Which was utterly true - and unlike most of the rich girl's trophy wives, her mother was cool. She texted and used Facebook and went out to clubs on the weekends.

"That sucks." Alex said glumly, swigging down another gulp of her apple juice. "I got a B on my history today." Alex added brightly. "Mrs. Grunder said I'm showing improvement."

"Good," her mother said, then lifted her twinkling gaze to her daughter. "But you still have homework, okay? Don't let your good grades slip past you over summer vacation."

Alex nodded, then both she and her mother rose simultaneously to bring their dishes to the sink. As Alex scraped the dishes and loaded the dishwasher, her mother swept the floors and folded the tablecloth again neatly. When the dishwasher was thumping erratically - it was a very old model - Alex was sent off to her room to do homework and her mother went to her bedroom to take a shower.

* * *

><p>She stripped out of the uncomfortable tan skirt and sensible beige button down blouse that she was forced to wear every day and threw them haphazardly on the floor. Thus exposed to the chill air of the miniscule apartment - they couldn't afford to keep the heat higher then fifty-seven - she wrapped a towel around her scantily dressed body and hurried into the bathroom. Their bathroom was the size of a large closet, and a huge slipper tub dominated the room. She let the towel drop and examined her lithe body in the full length mirror that decorated one wall.<p>

She liked her body, unlike most women - she was slim and petite, with "adorable" curves, or so her ex-boyfriend once said. With her dark blue eyes and short red hair, she could pass off for a model, except she was too short. With an expert twist of her wrist, she jiggled the shower knob and thumped the tap appropriately - it was another thing that had to be fixed - hot water surged forward reluctantly. She kicked off her boring white underwear and plain white bra and left them in a pile on the floor, then stepped into the hot spray that coughed reluctantly over her freckled skin. It felt good to wash the cigarette smoke out of her hair and the sweat off of her body. Working at the Backdoor Kitchen was basically without perks - her boss was grumpy, the uniform was uncomfortable, and the men there thought they had the right to leer at her when she bent over to pick up dropped spoons.

Unfortunately, their water bill was too high to merit a long, soothing shower, so just when her muscles were starting to relax, she shut the hot water off and climbed out of the tub, droplets of water beading on her smooth body. She toweled herself off briskly, then hurried back to her room, anxious to get her sweat pants and t shirt on before the cool air chilled her damp skin. The gray sweat pants she tugged on were baggy and rather too large for her, but she didn't care. And the yellow "Pony Express" t shirt that she had slept in for the past five years had two holes in it, and was beginning to get dingy around the cuffs, but there simply was no money for her to be going out and buying a new set of pajamas. Every extra drop of her already meager paycheck went into buying Alex school supplies and clothes; the bill collectors sucked up every last drop they had.

The cable was on the fritz again (it had probably been knocked out of alignment by the wind on the rooftop), so she fired up her clunky old desktop computer and waited patiently for her excruciatingly slow AOL connection to form. When it did, she logged onto the internet and checked her Facebook page. Nothing, as usual. This didn't bother her - she posted on Facebook to talk to herself more then anything.

She had only been typing for about a half an hour when she heard Alex creaking down the hallway. Alex poked her head around the doorway, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. Her mother looked up and smiled at her. In Alex's arms was a faded blue book, and without even her saying so, she knew what it was. "Fellowship of the Ring? Again?" her mother said, feigning exasperation. "Whenever are you going to grow out of it, hon?"

"Never." Alex said decisively, snuggling underneath her mother's blankets and setting the battered book on her lap expectantly. "I'm always going to love it." Her mother shut down the computer and climbed into bed, cuddling close to her daughter, and switched on her bedside light. The small rectangular glasses that she settled on her nose gave her the elegant look of a writer, which she was. The old book let out a slight crack as it was opened.

She opened the book and licked her finger, flipping through the pages. "Where should we start?" her mother asked. Alex closed her eyes, waiting for the fantastic images to appear in her head.

"Start where Frodo meets Strider." Alex commanded, and her mother began to read. Her voice, which was normally unaccented, acquired a gentle English tilt to her words when she read aloud, and Alex loved how she gave each character a different voice. Frodo's voice was smooth and chirrupy, whilst Strider's voice was gruff and businesslike. Gandalf was a kindly old voice that cracked in places and conjured up foggy images of Alex's grandfather. Merry and Pippin both had Irish accents, with Pippin's being a touch higher-pitched then Merry's. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.

Her mother dropped a kiss on her forehead when the chapter ended, seeing that her daughter was asleep. Alex twisted suddenly as her mother shut off the bedside light. "Would you like to live in Middle Earth, Mom?" Alex asked sleepily. Her mother stopped for a moment, her azure eyes far away and slightly preoccupied. How nice it would be, to live in Rivendell, with no debts, no cranky bosses, no upset customers.

"I would like to." her mother said slowly. "But I don't think we can get there." she added softly. Alex turned over on her side, stifling a yawn.

"Oh, we can get there." Alex mumbled drowsily. "If we wish hard enough."

Her mother waited for a moment, watching her daughter sleep in the dim light. After a moment, her eyes adjusted, and she could see the rhythmic rising and falling of her daughter's chest, and heard the soft sighs that Alex always made when she was sleeping. Taking great care not to wake her, she crept out of bed and went over to her desktop, which she fired up. Sitting in the chilly bedroom, quivering inside because it was so cold, she rubbed her hands together briskly to warm them. When the connection had been established, she flexed her fingers experimentally, her blue eyes going blank and unfocused as she began to write.

**Dear Readers.**

**I came home from work today, tired, cold, and hungry, and was greeted by my daughter. Because she has always had an optimistic view on life, she filled me in on her entire day, while I was left washing dishes, wondering what to say to the pretty young woman who my little girl had become. She is my pride and joy, and I often wonder what I would do without her in my life. Her father was a passing comfort, but he left as soon as responsibility settled itself heavily on his shoulders.**

**So here I am, thirty two, unmarried, and with no status other then "single". My prospects have shrank to nothing over the few years since we've lived in Boston, and now, looking back, I chide myself for ever coming to this scummy city. Oh, it's beautiful in the autumn, and the Roger William's Zoo is cherished dearly by my little girl, but I miss the country all the same. I miss the wild, open spaces, the sweet little streams and the babbling birds. **

**This evening my daughter asked me a peculiar question. "Mom," she asked, her conscious still hovering in slumber. "Would you live in Middle Earth?" **

**I think I have already explained my daughter's almost-unreasonable infatuation for the series. She loves them with a passion she shows only to me and books in general, and this I cannot understand. But the question shook me, and I truly gave it thought for a moment. How nice it would be, to go to bed to the sound of running water again, to not worry about debts or bills or anything. The men there were more chivalrous then they are here, and I cannot help but wonder if I could find a husband there. I highly doubt it, but one can dream. **

**So, my answer was a "Yes" to my daughter. I still wonder if I said the right thing. But then she said the queerest thing: "We can get there if we wish hard enough." **

**Was she sleep talking, hovering between the fine layers of sleep and awareness? Or was she coherent enough to believe in what she was saying? I still do not know. **

**Signing off,**

**Eoin**

She closed the browser window and sighed, rubbing her temples. She hadn't noticed the time; it was nearly eleven o'clock. She had to get to be if she was to wake up at seven so she could see Alex to school. Sighing deeply, she crawled into bed next to her daughter, and thought about the words she had said. "If we wish hard enough."

She hung to those words, coated as they were with magical layers of mysticism and romance. Scolding herself for being such a silly woman, she rolled over and fell asleep.

**A/N: I figured I might as well start another story to keep myself busy since I'm taking time off of "Most Unwillingly Given". Tell me what you think - and no flames, please. They ruin my day. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hope you guys like it. As for a recent comment regarding how quickly I can write these chapters, I'm an at-home mom. So, since my kids are old enough to sit quietly and play with Lego's without killing each other, I usually have a good 2-3 hours on the computer every day. Hence, the fast updates; when I'm not reading/writing fiction, I'm working on my regular novel that I've been writing for the past year. **

**Summary: Eoin and Alex wake up in Middle Earth, only to be surrounded by a gang of bloodthirsty Orcs. Will they survive? **

**Disclaimer: I own Eoin and Alex Marksworth, my OC s.**

She woke, for the first time in almost ten years, to the sound of birdsong. It was a cheerful whistling that she didn't recognize - a chickadee? A thrush? - but it was pleasant nonetheless. In Boston, birds didn't sing, unless you count the soft hooting of the pudgy gray pigeons who waddled outside her window and pecked on the glass at two in the morning. Eoin was just about to roll over and go back to sleep - it was a Saturday, after all, a fact she had forgotten about last night - when she felt the short spikes of grass tickle her cheek.

Eoin sat bolt upright, her cerulean eyes blazing with fear and shock. She was sitting in the middle of a small glen, with thick woods encircling it. Had she been kidnapped? Where was Alex? As soon as this thought touched her mind she flat-out panicked, looking around anxiously for her daughter. Fear, cold and metallic, rose in her mouth, souring it. Eoin's heart did something funny when she saw the dark bundle of her daughter curled up next to a stream some ways away. She sprang over to her daughter quickly, fearing that she was either dead or unconscious.

But it was neither. As soon as Eoin touched her shoulder, Alex woke with a start, her dark eyes flashing open. She stretched luxuriously like a calico cat, and rolled over. "Five minutes, Mom, it's Saturday." she complained. Then she heard the same thing Eoin had heard - birdsong. Cocking her head to the side, she listened, then jumped to her feet with a little scream of surprise and delight. "Holy cow, Mom! Where are we?"

Eoin was on her feet, scanning the surrounding area for any dangers. She mentally cursed herself for sleeping so deeply - she had always been a heavy sleeper, ever since she was a child. How on earth had they wound up here? "I don't know." she said finally, and she cross the small glen in order to go over to the stream. She dipped a finger in the water and withdrew it hastily. "It's freezing." she murmured, half to herself.

Alex tensed as she heard twigs snap, and Eoin whirled around, looking hastily on the ground for a rock or a stick to fight off some kind of wild animal. Her fingers closed around a jagged stone, not much larger then her fist, but it would have to do. More twigs snapped, and the branches at the edge of the clearing stirred oh-so-slightly. Eoin tightened her grip on the rock and pushed Alex behind her, trying to see what kind of thing would crash through the bushes and attack them. Her imaginative side was running wild, conjuring up images of bears and moose, rabid wolves, lions, anything and everything that would hurt them.

Thinking back on it now, she decided she would have preferred a wild bear.

The most ugly creature she had ever seen stamped into the clearing. He wasn't much taller then Alex, with stringy black hair and blackish skin. His teeth were sharp yellow nubs in his gray gums, and he bared them at her dangerously. A rusty cutlass was brandished in one hand, and he was dressed in a mail shirt and breastplate. His eyes were black and wild with yellow whites, and he grinned at her manically. "We gotta live 'un, mates!" he rasped. His voice was rough and hoarse, as though he had been screaming for hours and could barely talk. The thing stepped foreward menacingly, shaking his sword and baring his fiendish smile. Eoin felt sick - what was this thing?

She heard Alex intake her breath sharply behind her. "Mom, that's an **Orc**!" she sputtered. "What is it doing here?"

Eoin tossed the rock from her left hand to her right. She was ambidextrous, but her right had was slightly steadier then her left. She glowered back at the Orc, or whatever it was. "C'mon, buddy boy." she snarled. "I'll knock a hole in your filthy skull."

The Orc, apparently taken aback that his quarry wasn't running and screaming, advanced slowly, his orangey teeth still visible. He swiped at her with his blade, aiming for her neck, but she threw the rock hard and it connected solidly with his nose with a satisfying **crunch**. He wailed in pain, grasping his face, and Eoin brought her knee up to hit him hard in the place she knew would hurt him most. With the combination of burning pain in his groin and his face, he dropped the scimitar.

She picked it up quickly, surprised at how heavy it was. Eoin could barely lift it, let alone swing it. But apparently the Orc thought she could, and it began scrabbling away on the grass. She let him crawl away, then tossed the rusty sword aside. She grabbed her daughter's elbow and hurried her from the clearing. Alex's face was white with shock, and Eoin guessed she must look the same way. She shuddered internally when she thought of how the Orc had almost killed her.

They stumbled out of the clearing and into the dense woods, staggering slightly. Alex stayed close behind her, one hand tucked into Eoin's back belt loop, her lower lip being contained by her front teeth. Her brown eyes were wet with tears. "If this is Middle Earth," Eoin heard her whisper. "I don't like it very much."

This was a new thought - Eoin had never considered that they were in Middle Earth. How could they have gotten there? She dimly remembered her daughter wishing for something like this to happen, but how can a wish come true? Wishes didn't come true - as she very well knew. This was ridiculous - they had to get out of here as soon as possible.

While she had been thinking, she almost collided straight into a tree. The scaly bark scraped her forehead sharply, and Eoin swore, mostly out of pain, but anger was mixed in too. Alex was startled - her mother rarely swore, unless she was extremely angry or upset. Eoin rubbed her forehead tenderly; that was going to leave a nasty scrape.

Then she felt the blade at her neck, and she realized a scrape was the least of her worries.

Unlike some of it's companions, the Uruk-hai was huge. The thing was monstrous, with broad chest muscles and an ugly leer on its face. Eoin didn't move a muscle, except for her nose scrunching involuntarily. The beast stank of blood, mud, and about fifty years worth of accumulated sweat. There was also something vaguely fecal about it that made her want to retch. Eoin didn't think she could take her chances with this one.

"Fresh meat, boys!" the beast roared, spittle flying from it's black lips. Eoin cringed as the thing hauled her upright by her short red hair. She winced and tried swatting at it, but before she knew it they were both surrounded by a group of panting Uruks. Alex was pinned roughly to the muscled chest of one of the animals, and Eoin began to fight in earnest. If they even touched one hair on her head she'd - !

Eoin twisted and sank her teeth to the gumline in her captor's wrist. Black blood, sickeningly salty and tasting absolutely horrific, filled her mouth, and she spat it out vigorously. There was a growl from the Uruk, and he threw her hard on the ground. The breath was buffeted out of her slim body, and Eoin cried out, gasping for breath.

"We'll take 'em wit' us." the huge Uruk snarled. There was a general groan from the assembled Orcs and Uruk-hai.

"Why can't we eat 'er now?" one of them whined. "She's fresh!"

"We'll eat 'em when we stop fer tah night." the leader said decisively. "Grab one of 'em boys, and get runnin'."

Eoin felt herself being hauled to her feet by her hair again, and then she was thrown haphazardly on a shoulder. The sharp armor they wore dug into her belly, and she shifted, trying to get a better position. The Uruk slapped the inside of her thigh sharply, wordlessly warning her not to move. Eoin stayed still, and she saw Alex in a similar state on the back of another Uruk. Eoin swallowed a bitter lump in her throat - this was going to be a long, hard journey.

She discovered the Uruks had taken two other people captive - two small Hobbits, which Alex immediately identified as Merry and Pippin. Despite Alex's obviously precarious position, she was pleased to find herself in the middle of her favorite movie. Eoin closed her eyes again, because the only thing she could see was the ugly faces of Orcs and Uruk-hai. She heard Alex whimper as an Uruk growled something at her, and hate flared, hard and bright, in Eoin's chest.

They continued running the whole day, and it was pitch black out by the time they stopped. By that time, the entire pack - Eoin still considered them animals - were slobbering for the taste of human flesh. The Uruk who had been carrying her dumped her unceremoniously on the ground, and Eoin wiggled closer to Alex, who was lying next to the tiny Hobbits. Merry was still groggy from his head injury, and Pippin was as white as chalk. He glanced at Eoin with big, glassy eyes that reminded her of a deer caught in the headlights.

"Get a fire goin'!" the leader Uruk bellowed, and the Orcs set about impatiently, their axes biting deep into the huge trees that shadowed them a few paces away. From deep inside the forest, Eoin could hear groans and moans from the trees as they talked to each other. Alex shuddered and drew closer to her mother.

It wasn't long before the fire was blazing hard and hot, and Eoin closed her eyes, praying to every saint she knew, that something happen to save them from almost-certain death. Her only hope was that the Orcs were too impatient to torture them, and killed them quickly. She felt a pair of oozing eyes settle on her.

"I'm stah-vin!" one of the Orcs whined. "We ain't 'ad notin' but maggoty bread fer three stinkin' days!" Before long, a few other Orcs and Uruks had joined in the cry.

"Why can't we 'ave some meat?" another Orc complained. He glanced at Eoin and Alex, then licked his lips hungrily. "W'at about them? They're fresh!"

The leader Uruk stood, towering over the puny Orcs. "We ain't eatin' 'em yet." he snapped. "We're only stoppin' 'ere fer a few minutes, then we're getting back tah Isenguard."

A collective moan went up, but the complaints didn't stop. "What about their legs?" another Orc piped up, licking his blade slowly, eyeing Eoin's long, freckled legs. "They don't need those."

The leader Uruk withdrew his halberd seamlessly and, with one mighty whack, chopped off a random Orc's head. A cheer went up from the Orcs and Uruks as they fell upon the body of their comrade. Eoin turned her head to the side and vomited. This was disgusting.

She felt a pair of cold, slimy hands grip her legs with surprising strength. Eoin kicked hard, clipping the Orc who had grabbed her in the jaw. He didn't appear fazed, just lowered his head on her calf and prepared to take a whopping bite out of her smooth leg. Eoin began screaming, then, loud, piercing shrieks that reverberated through the whole clearing. Alex joined in the cry.

Alex felt it first, because she wasn't busy fighting off a hungry Orc. A low, rumbling hum that started from the west, a thundering of hooves striking the soft ground. She rolled to one side as fifty horsemen flew into camp, arrows flying, swords flashing in the scant moonlight. In all the confusion, Eoin managed to beat the Orc into submission and get to her feet. Her hands were still bound behind her back, but she hoped that the horsemen would undo them for her.

"Help!" she shrieked, loud enough for her voice to crack. "Help, over here!"

A red horse with a black mane and tail thumped over to her. Sitting on top of it was a fully-armored man with a one handed sword clenched in his right fist. He spotted Eoin, who was still crying out for someone to help, and urged his mount forward. With a slash, he nicked the ropes from her wrists. "Stay here!" he ordered, his voice a harsh bark. Eoin, surprised into obedience, stayed, hugging Alex close to her and untying her wrists.

Amid all the confusion, Alex noticed Merry and Pippin race desperately into the forest, an Orc following close behind. She hoped they would be all right - if the movie was to be believed, Treebeard squashed the Orc underneath his giant foot. That would be something to see. Alex yelped as Eoin dragged her to the edge of the clearing, away from all the fighting, and she watched her mother pick up a stick. It was a thick, chunky log that would probably give anyone a nasty headache if they tried to cross her.

"Alex, are you all right?" Eoin asked, crouching down to her daughter's eye level. She ran her hands distractedly through her hair, and touched her daughter's cheek. Alex nodded.

"I'm okay." she said shakily. "We got rescued by the Riders of Rohan, Mom! Isn't that cool?"

Eoin nodded slowly. "Yes, but we need to stay safe." she said seriously. They waited until the battle died down, and she watched with growing horror that the Rorrhim Riders were dismounting and piling the corpses into the blazing fire. It would create an ungodly stench.

"I thought I told you to stay still." growled a deep voice behind her. Eoin whirled around, her azure eyes bright with fear and terror, raising the log up to prepare to whack whatever had snuck up on her. A hand, covered in a mail glove, grasped the stick firmly.

"And stay in the middle of a battle?" Eoin retorted, the fear slowly fading from her eyes. "I had to make sure my daughter was safe."

He left go of her stick and she dropped it, feeling foolish. "Understandable." he said. Alex, unable to keep quiet any longer, spoke up, her youthful voice high and chirrupy.

"And you're Lord Eomer!" she said, her dark eyes going round with awe and respect. The horseman tugged off his helmet, and a handsome, rugged face came into view, along with a soft pair of gentle brown eyes. He crouched in front of her, a little smile forming on his handsome face.

"Yes, but now you have me at a disadvantage." he said, taking Alex's small hand in his mailed one and kissing it gently. "What's your name, little princess?"

Alex blushed. "Alexia, but everybody calls me Alex." she said, giggling in spite of herself. Eomer laughed. It was a deep, rich, hearty laugh that assuaged Eoin's doubts.

"A beautiful and unusual name for a beautiful and unusual girl." he said. Then he stood and faced Eoin. His eyes bored into hers, and Eoin felt herself blushing. She dropped her gaze almost instantly - he was almost obscenely handsome. He had never been this handsome in the movies.

"And yours?" he asked, turning her cheek with his finger. Eoin met his gaze, shivering at the touch of the cool mail against her soft cheek.

"Eoin. Eoin Marksworth." she said. He nodded, his brown eyes never leaving hers. Then he turned and shouted something in a different language to his men.

Another Rider broke out of the ranks of horses and galloped over. When he was close, he slid neatly off of his horse and studied the two girls. "Yes, my lord?" he asked.

"Take these girls and see their wounds are treated." Eomer said. Then he glanced at Alex. "And make sure they have something to eat, too - I am sure they are very hungry."

Alex followed them willingly, but Eoin hung back, unsure. She felt a calloused hand on the small of her back briefly, and she felt goose bumps crawl over her arms. "Your daughter is safe with us, my lady." he said in her ear. Eoin quivered internally. His breath was warm on her neck.

"I know." she said hesitantly.

"And so are you." he added. "Banished or not, we are still men of honor." Eomer said.

Still, Eoin hung back. Then, making up her mind in a rush, she followed her daughter quickly, ducking her head to avoid the stares of the men who were already tending to her daughter's scraped arms and legs.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the horrifying stench that hung heavily in the air, it was a beautiful night. Bright stars were strewn carelessly over a velvety dark sky, and the ancient dark trees of Fangorn Forest creaked and moaned in the slight evening breeze. A plume of yellowish smoke was rising from the bodies of the slain Uruks, veiling the stars from Eoin's eyes. After a moment of trying - in vain - to find any recognizable constellations, she turned her attention to Alex, who was chatting amiably with the Rohirrim men. Alex's dark hair, even when it was tangled and dirty, shone in the moonlight. Her delicate features were flushed with pleasure as she chattered away to the men.

Eoin watched as the Riders of Rohan bandaged her daughter's wounds. Genteel or no, she was still protective of her daughter and felt uneasy about having a group of rough men paw over her. Still, her apprehension was misplaced - the men here were obviously family men and some of them looked at Alex with something akin to fatherly pride. Alex loved having all the attention - she peppered the rugged men with questions concerning their culture, their language, how they had got banished, Eomer, everything. Startled and pleased, they answered her, sometimes in Rohirric and sometimes in Common, which was something like very old English. Eoin decided this was why everyone spoke so formally - it was like being in a very old Hallmark movie.

She couldn't keep her eyes off of Eomer, the leader. Why was she doing this to herself? She berated herself for several minutes, then eventually decided. Inwardly, Eoin had always been a romantic. At work she had always scoffed at the other waitresses' "love at first sight" stories, dismissing them as easily as she dismissed her husband of six months. But there was something about him - a strength, a courage, and an unbroken spirit despite his banishment and exile. 'And a very short temper.' she scolded herself as she watched the Rohirrim men with her daughter. Eoin decided she could live with his short temper - she preferred a spirited man over a glum one, which Kirk had been.

Eomer watched the strange woman as she talked to her daughter. There was an unmistakable attraction to her that he couldn't understand. He wrote it off to her short hair - no woman in Rohan wore their hair as short as she did - it barely touched her collar, and it was curled softly. He bit his lip as he watched her tug a lock of it behind her ear, only to have it fall out again almost immediately. The exiled lord studied the mother and daughter. Eoin was exceptionally protective of her daughter, and Alex clung to her fiercely, but they looked almost nothing alike. He would he supposed them friends had Alex not the same rounded profile and freckles spattered across her cheeks. He swallowed. If Alex grew up with the same curves as her mother, the men of Rohan would be throwing themselves at her. Shaking his head, he tossed these thoughts away and approached the mother and daughter duo.

"We should get moving." he said firmly, and the men instantly began to mount their horses. Eoin glanced up at him, and he was pleased to see a blush skim across her cheeks. "You two will have to ride together, I'm afraid. Unless Lady Alex knows how to ride?" he questioned with a little twinkle in his eyes. Alex giggled and shook her head.

"Thanks, but I wouldn't want her to ride separately." Eoin said, the blush leaving her cheeks. Whenever it came to matters of her daughter, she set any desires of her own aside as quickly as she possibly could. "I can barely manage to stay on a horse myself, and I need Alex to catch me if I fall." she joked.

Alex laughed, the high, happy laughter of a child. Eomer marveled how adaptable children were - just this evening the little girl had been slung over the back of an Orc, and now she was delighted at riding on a horse. "Mom, you can ride." Alex corrected. Eoin made a face so silly it made Eomer smile.

"I can sit on a horse, it's different from riding." Eoin said, and turned to Eomer. Her face grew serious as she looked up at him. He noted - not for the first time - how small she was. Her head only came up to his broad chest. "Thanks a lot." she murmured quietly. "I don't know what we would have done if you guys hadn't come along."

"But we did." Eomer said. "So there is no need for thanks." Eoin shook her head ruefully and shrugged, placing her hands on Alex's narrow shoulders. Absently she twirled a dark strand of her daughter's hair around one finger.

"All right, then." she said softly. Eomer whistled sharply, causing Eoin to jump, startled. Her eyes widened for just a fraction of a second, and then she relaxed. Eomer noticed this and mentally recorded how easily she was spooked. She was like a nervous mare with a new foal.

"Hama, bring Arod over here." Eomer said commandingly. The kingly tone that had dissolved when he was talking to Eoin came back in full force, and every syllable resonated with princely demand.

One of the soldiers - Eoin recognized him as one of the men who had told Alex about Rohirrim traditions - came over leading a bay horse by the halter. The bay horse looked complacent enough - his liquid black eyes, rimmed in huge eyelashes, looked gentle - but his sheer size frightened Eoin. She knew very little about horses, and, despite her love for open fields, had always contained a very deep, very secret fear for the colossal animals. Eoin stroked his neck nervously, and Eomer noted her apprehension. "He won't bite." he said in a low voice. "And I promise he won't throw you."

Eoin looked at him, her eyes slightly guarded. But she nodded once and allowed Eomer to pick Alex up and help her into the saddle. She giggled and patted Arod's neck, encouraging a huff of warm air from his velvet nose. It was a novelty for her, and Eomer liked the fact that the little girl wasn't afraid of horses. Eoin, on the other hand…he watched her as she walked around Arod, her lips tightening subtly, trying to find an easy way to climb the horse. Eomer followed her to the other side. "Here," he offered. "Let me help you."

She looked at him with such a strange expression that he wondered what she was thinking. Then, reluctantly it seemed, allowed him to boost her up into the saddle. She settled herself behind Alex and took the reins in her slender hands, fiddling with them uncertainly. Eomer adjusted her saddlebags and then took the reins from her hands with a wry grin. "If you don't know what you're doing, the horse is likely to bolt." he said, and looped them around the pommel of his own saddle. He saw Eoin's pride almost visibly rear in her eyes.

"I've taken a few riding lessons," Eoin said defensively. This was a complete and utter lie, and she wouldn't be a bit surprised if her tongue was turning black at this very minute. The truth was she had never ridden on a horse, and Arod looked as though he could sense it. Eomer leaned against Arod's side, his arms folded, a mischievous smile flitting at the corners of his mouth.

"Really? How many times have you ridden a horse?" he asked. Eoin ducked her head, caught. He let out a laugh, and she was relieved at how normal it sounded. Deep, rich and full, it was a real down home, masculine laugh. Kirk's laugh had been squeaky and high, but nice all the same. She stopped herself. She had to stop doing that - comparing him with Kirk.

"All right, all right." Eoin said, flushing hotly. Eomer gave a final chuckle and swung himself gracefully into his own saddle. When he urged his red horse forward, Arod moved as well, connected by the halter rope. Alex felt her mother tense as they began moving.

"It's okay, Mom - Eomer said we'd be fine." Alex reassured her in a low whisper. Eomer's keen ears pricked up when he heard the little girl whispering to her mother. He bit back a laugh at Eoin's dry response.

"Oh, really? From what I can see, **Lord** Eomer can't promise us anything - especially when it concerns horses." Eoin said, gripping her daughter's waist firmly. Alex leaned back and snuggled against her mother. Eoin looked down and planted a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead. "You ought to sleep - we've been traveling a long time."

Alex curled up against her mother's stomach, and Eomer saw Eoin wince sharply. Her daughter apparently didn't notice the discomfort on Eoin's face, nor did she see Eoin shift slightly in order to move Alex's head off her stomach. Eomer was concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked lightly. She threw him a look, and he saw how fearful she was of being on a horse.

"My stomach is a little bruised from being on a Uruk's shoulder all day," she admitted. "But it's nothing serious. I get bruises like this all the time."

"From where?" Eomer inquired. He saw her hesitate, plainly uncomfortable on how to answer.

"My job," she said finally. "Whenever I wait on tables, I sometimes bump my hip against a corner and bruise it. I bruise easily."

"Your job?" he asked curiously. She didn't look at him. Hadn't she expected this? Women in the medieval ages weren't supposed to work, at least, not at a professional job. They were supposed to be home taking care of their families - come to think of it, children didn't usually go to school, unless they were religious. Their mother's taught them.

"Yeah." she said finally. "I don't know if you noticed, but we're not from here. Where we come from, it isn't unusual for women to work - you know, at regular jobs." Eomer studied her, slightly confused. Then he shrugged.

"I knew you were not from here." he said with a quick glance at Eoin. One look spoke volumes of her surprise. He smiled underneath his helmet. "You're accent gave you away." he told her. She cocked her head to the side.

"My accent?" she asked. Eomer turned his face towards to moon so the pretty redhead would not see his smile.

"Say the name of my city." he commanded, and Eoin's insides quivered at his tone. It was such a firm, deep voice, like the guy who does the movie trailers mixed with a vat of treacle. A voice that made it very hard to disobey.

"Rohan." Eoin said, and he laughed again.

"As I said, you're accent. Our city is not pronounced 'row-hen'. It's 'row-**han**.'" Eomer said. Eoin blushed.

"Well, now I know." she said.

And that was that. It was a very comfortable silence, and Eomer felt no need to break it. He wondered if she'd fallen asleep, but a quick look over to Arod's back revealed that she was still too uncomfortable to be sleeping on a horse. He knew the feeling - it was a deep, unsettling terror that the instant you closed your eyes, you would fall off. Also she had no one to lean against, like Alex did. And the fact that she was terrified of horses - **horses**! - made it even worse.

* * *

><p>It didn't take them long before sunrise arrived, and the golden beams of sunlight kissed the earth gently. A bloody run rose, stretching luxuriously over the green, slightly marshy hills. The clouds in the sky turned the softest pink for a magical moment, and then they faded to the regular snowy white that so often occupied the color of the clouds. A tremulous stroke of blue painted itself across the horizon, quickly followed by another few streaks. Before long, the whole sky was light blue and stretching endlessly before them. It was, Eomer mused, a lighter shade of Eoin's eyes. Her eyes were darker, more serious, but they still contained the freedom that the open sky did.<p>

"Riders of Rohan! What news from the mark?" a voice hailed them from behind. Eomer raised a fist in the air and the entire group of horsemen wheeled around in perfect harmony, horsetails flicking and hooves biting deep into the soft earth. The large group surrounded the elf, man, and dwarf in a matter of seconds, and lances came dangerously close to their necks.

"What business does an elf, a man, and a dwarf have in the Ridermark? Speak quickly!" Eomer asked, suspicion beginning to darken his face. The dwarf, a red-bearded, gruff looking fellow squared his shoulders resolutely and sneered defiantly at the banished lord.

"Give me your name, horse master, and I'll give you mine." the dwarf retorted. Anger, hot and bright, flared for a burning moment inside Eomer's chest, and he dismounted smoothly, unsheathing his sword. He placed the tip of it at the dwarf's neck, and when he spoke, it was in a dangerous purr.

"I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." he growled.

The blonde elf with the angular features whipped out and arrow and notched it to the string of his bow, every muscle as taut as his bowstring. His icy blue eyes were pale and flashing with anger. "You would die before your stroke fell." he snarled. All of the lances edged closer, and the man had to bat away a few of them before he could soothe his irate companion.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and this is Gimli, son of Gloin. He is Legolas of the Woodland Realm. We are friend of Rohan and of your king, Théoden." the man said carefully. Something passed in front of Eomer's eyes, and he tugged off his helmet. His blonde hair tumbled around his shoulders, and his eyes were dark with suppressed sadness and rage.

"Théoden no longer recognized friend from foe." Eomer said softly. "Not even his own kin." Then he glared hard at Legolas. "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan, and for that, we are banished."

His eyes never left Legolas's icy blue ones as he snarled at him. "The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets." Eomer said roughly. Legolas returned his scowl unflinchingly.

"We are not spies." Aragorn said, speaking up again. "We track a band of Uruk-hai across the plains. They have taken two of our friends captive."

Eomer glanced at Eoin and Alex, who both shook their heads. "The Uruks are destroyed." he said shortly. "My men and I slaughtered them in the night."

"But the Hobbits! Did you see two Hobbits with them?" Gimli asked, all traces of annoyance gone from his ruddy face. His eyes widened beneath his beard.

"They would be small, only children to your eyes." Aragorn elaborated, for unmistakable signs of confusion were etching themselves into Eomer's face. The blonde horse lord shrugged, but he seemed sympathetic.

"I am sorry." he said. "We left none alive save a woman and her daughter. The carcasses are piled and burned over there." he said, gesturing to the pillar of yellowish smoke in the distance. Their hearts sank to their toes.

"Dead?" Gimli asked disbelievingly.

"I am sorry." Eomer said, his apology sounding genuine. Then he whistled sharply again, just as he had earlier that evening, and called for two horses. "Hansoful! Arod!"

The two horses, including the one bearing Eoin and Alex, were led forward. "May these horses bring you better fortune then their previous masters." he said, helping Alex off of Arod. He met Eoin's gaze briefly as he helped her down, but he was still upset enough not to notice her blush, nor relish the feeling of her small, cool hand in his large calloused one.

Eoin and Alex stood there for a moment. "Do not trust to hope." Eomer said as the three travelers climbed up on the horses. "It has forsaken these lands." Then he turned to his men. "We ride north." he said.

Hansoful and Arod galloped off, bearing their new riders, and Eomer finally turned his attentions to Eoin and Alex. "Hama, will you ride with Alex for the time being?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord." Hama said, and helped Alex into his saddle. Eomer turned to Eoin, and noticed the deep crimson coloring on both of her freckled cheeks.

"Will you ride with me?" he asked her in a soft voice almost too quiet to be heard. Eoin looked at him, long and hard, for what seemed like an eternity. Then she gave a barely perceptible nod of her head.

"I'd like that." she said quietly. He helped her onto Firefoot and she settled there reluctantly. He climbed into the saddle and dug his heels into Firefoot's sides, and the dappled gray horse took off like a shot. He could tell that Eoin's nerves were fading, and she relaxed marginally and - almost accidentally - settled against him.

Sinful thoughts of all colors and breeds were flashing through Eoin's head. She had never been one to fantasize, but this was too much. Didn't he know how wonderful it felt to be snuggled up against a warm, muscular chest? Probably not, otherwise he would have pawned her off to some other rider. The fact that he had **asked** her to ride with him was a good indication, wasn't it? The feel of his muscular arms pressed lightly against her sides, his warm breath on her exposed neck, his armor jabbing slightly into her back, was all too real and wonderful to be a dream. If it was a dream, she hoped she had died and would never wake up.

Eomer was about to ask his pretty companion something, when he glanced down and saw her cobalt eyes closed. He chuckled to himself, and she half turned and curled herself against the rumble in his chest. Her short cropped red hair smelled absolutely delicious, despite the fact she hadn't taken a bath since she had been carried over the shoulder of an Uruk-hai. It smelled faintly of coconut and strawberries, two scents he had not smelled in a very long time. He lost himself in the tantalizing aroma, completely unaware that the woman in his arms was falling asleep dreaming of him.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for taking so long. Between cleaning out the spare bedroom to turn it into a nursery and picking out wall paint (we're going with yellow and green, because we're leaving it a surprise), I've not been in the best "Lord of the Rings" mood. I caught a glimpse of the movie last night and guess who was glaring at me from the television set? "Too long have you watched my sister. Too long have you haunted her steps." Growl, growl, Eomer! Down kitty, down!**

**Disclaimer: I own Eoin and Tami Marksworth, my OCs. Everything else, including people and places you recognize, are owned by Tolkien exclusively.**

The golden autumn sun shone gloriously in front of them, bathing the company of Rohan in the final dying embers of the majestic setting sun. Eomer was in front, the standard of Rohan tied to his lance, and curled up in front of him was the slim frame of Eoin. He glanced down at his traveling companion with a little smile that was hidden behind his helmet. Her mop of curly red hair winked brightly in the final rays of the run, revealing a strand or two of hair that had clumped together with blood and dirt. Dirt streaked one of her cheeks, and her fingernails were filthy. But she still retained a pretty elegance to her, despite her disheveled appearance. Her head was tilted backwards and lolled to the side, snuggling against Eomer's collarbone. Her eyes were closed and her lashes were curled sweetly against each flushed cheek, which was tinted a light pink from the stiff wind.

She stirred suddenly, blinking in the harsh sunlight. Eomer tightened his grip around her waist as she looked around her uncertainly. Then she dug the heels of her hands into her vivacious blue eyes and squinted in the setting sun. The delicious aroma of fresh air and heather tickled at her nose, and the wild, open plains were a sight for sore eyes. She hadn't felt this alive since she'd been a teenager back in Montana - but that was a different story. She felt Eomer's laugh, a low, rumbling purr that resonated in his deep chest like a lions' growl. "I thought you were going to sleep until we camped for the night," he teased lightly. Eoin nudged his side with her elbow and he chuckled again.

"I almost did. Hey, where's Alex?" she said, suddenly straining forward to try and catch a glimpse of her dark-haired daughter. Eomer pulled her backwards to keep her from losing her balance. It was distinctly motherly, the way her thoughts turned immediately to her daughter. Any doubts he had harbored over the fact that they were mother and daughter were dispelled when he saw that simple motion. This was a women who was truly a mother, who discarded small discomforts and dislikes if it meant her child was happy.

"She is still sleeping with Hama," he soothed her gently. "Although I think she might have worn herself out simply by asking too many questions." He felt Eoin give a little huff of laughter. She settled back against Eomer's armor plate and eyed the back Firefoot's neck. He felt her tense subtly as she remembered she was on a horse.

"Alex has a thing for asking questions," she said, patting the dappled gray horse's neck uncertainly. Firefoot whickered and arched his neck, lifting his head up in response to the hasty pat. "She asks questions of almost everybody, then she comes to you three days later and asks you again."

"That is the manner of children," Eomer said. "Always on a quest to sate their thirst for knowledge. If she is fortunate, then she will continue this journey all through her life."

"Yeah, I guess so," Eoin said sleepily. The sun descended behind the plains, leaving nothing but long shadows and a ghostly twilight. Eomer slowed Firefoot to a walk, and then stopped him. Behind him, the fifty-horseman strong company did the same, dismounting and preparing to break for camp. Eomer slid off the horse, then turned around and held out his hand for Eoin to come down. She gave a wary look at Firefoot's considerable height and reluctantly placed her hand in his chain mailed one. He was firm and strong beneath her slight weight, and she got off the horse without looking like too much of a fool.

"There is a stream over yonder," Eomer said, gesturing with his hand as he took off his helmet. His long blonde hair tumbled loose, and he raised an eyebrow at Eoin. The redhead was looking around the bustle of camp for her daughter. "You and your daughter may bathe, if you wish."

"Are you suggesting that I smell?" Eoin said playfully, still looking around for her daughter. She caught sight of a small dark head weaving it's way through the crowd and she relaxed. Eomer allowed a little smile to turn one corner of his mouth.

"You have been carried over the back of an Orc for most of yesterday's afternoon," Eomer pointed out. Eoin scooped Alex in a hug and shot Eomer a glare over her daughter's head. Alex's dark eyes were wide with delight and she began talking even before she reached her mother.

"Mom, it was so cool! Hama told me all this neat stuff about Rohan and Edoras. It sounds so pretty, Mom! Can we -" Alex's burbling was cut off by her mother shushing her gently with an upraised finger.

"You can tell me all about it after we wash your hair," Eoin said. Then she mouthed 'thank you' to Eomer, and steered her daughter towards the direction of the stream. Alex looked disappointed.

"But why?" Eomer heard her asking. He stifled a laugh at her mother's disapproving answer.

"Because you smell like a pig that's been playing in week-old slops, now am-scray to the river." Eoin chided, her hand on her daughter's thin shoulders. The two of them tumbled down a small grassy slope to where a small brook was winding it's way through the grass cheerfully, bubbling up from the ground. They knelt and began washing their faces and hands, splashing each other with the cold, clear water.

* * *

><p>Eomer looked up as Eoin and Alex approached. Alex's dark hair was dripping wet and her teeth were chattering. Eoin offered a little smile to the semi-circle of men that were seated around the fire. "Do you guys mind if Alex stays here for a bit while her hair dries? She might catch a cold if she doesn't dry off real soon." Eoin asked, half-hoping that she could stay too.<p>

"You are both most welcome to stay," Eomer answered. A few of the men moved aside, away from the fire, and Eoin sat Alex down close to the flickering flames. Weaving her small fingers through her daughter's dark hair, she knelt behind her and began trying to dry her own hair. Luckily, it was much shorter and it dried much quicker. Eomer saw in the leaping flames that her hair was transformed into a light coppery color when it was clean, and it suited her dark blue eyes. "We were just discussing our next plan of action," Eomer said.

"And that is?" Eoin said. Then she looked up. "Oh, well, I mean, if you can't tell me, then it's okay. I was just curious."

"No, you ought to know," Eomer said. "It concerned yourself and your daughter, actually." Eoin looked surprised. "We are unsure as to what our next move should be with you."

"Um, I think it would be best if Alex and I found our way to Edoras somehow." Eoin said. "I mean, we can't ride around with you guys forever. Sooner or later Alex is going to need a safe place to stay. I can't fight, and Alex is just a little girl, so if you guys attacked any Orcs or Uruk-hai while we're with you, I can't imagine it ending well for either side."

"That is what we decided," Hama said with a look at Eomer. "Some of us are of the opinion that you and your daughter should stay with the troop, but I personally think it would be better if we sent the two of you to Edoras. Once you are there, you can send a message to us using one of the ferriers to let us know of your safe arrival."

Eoin nodded. "That sounds sensible. So, me and Alex will go to Edoras, then what?" Eomer cleared his throat, and Eoin looked at him. Part of her fervently hoped that he had been the person who voiced his objection to her departure.

"I would like to ask a favor of you," he said. Eoin nodded again. "Will you carry a message to my sister, Eowyn? She lives at the castle with my father, Theoden. I should much like to let her know of my safety."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Eoin said. Eomer nodded. Eoin checked Alex's hair. "Well, it's mostly dry, hon, is that good enough?" Alex pouted slightly.

"I want to stay by the fire with the rest of the troop and listen to more stories," she complained. Eoin laughed and pressed a kiss into her daughter's - now clean - dark hair. "Please?" her daughter begged, giving her the best puppy eyes she could manage. The men stirred with laughter at the comical expression on the eleven-year-old girl's face.

"All right, as long as you don't bother the troops too much," Eoin said, getting up. "I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late - just because we're in the middle of nowhere doesn't mean your bedtime goes out the window."

The redhead went off to the side and began unrolling the sleeping roll Eomer had given her to share with her daughter. The horse lord watched the pretty mother silently as she settled herself down for the night. He had noticed that she had spot-washed their clothes, lifting the worst of the blood and grass stains off of their odd clothes. As she turned her back to the troop, he saw her curly mop of untidy hair glimmer briefly in the shimmering firelight, and he turned his attention back to the small dark-haired girl that was sitting in his lap, looking up at him adoringly.

* * *

><p>Daybreak came all too soon, and Eoin woke up slowly. She was completely stiff and sore - she supposed it came from sleeping on the hard, rocky ground. Her neck had an uncomfortable crick in it, and her left arm was asleep from being squished underneath Alex's small frame for half the night. Her daughter was still asleep, and Eoin picked her way out from her daughter's slumbering embrace gingerly, so as not to wake her. All around her, the men were waking up and coming to life. She spotted Eomer saddling a small black horse that had at one time belonged to a youthful troop. Now the young soldier was saddling Hama's horse. Evidently Eomer wanted to send Eoin and Alex on horseback to Edoras. Fear quivered in her belly.<p>

"Good morning," she said, greeting the broad-shouldered horse lord. Eomer glanced at her and a little smile quirked the side of his mouth. He slapped the small black horse affectionately on the rump.

"And a very good day to you as well, Lady Eoin," he said. "I have chosen Nightrider to be your mount for your journey to Edoras. She will bring you safely to Edoras, you have my word." Eoin stroked the small black horse's mane uncomfortably. The mare turned to look at her with glassy dark eyes, and nuzzled her shoulder.

"Thanks," Eoin said, biting her lower lip. "How long will it take us to get to Edoras?" she asked, checking the saddlebags. The buckles were well worn and they slipped out of their leather loops easily, and she peered inside the dark interior, noting the lumps of bread and apples.

"If you ride Nightrider gently, it will take you a day and a night," Eomer answered. "But if you encounter any trouble, just outrun it. She is a fast little horse - she will get you out of trouble with ease."

Alex came over with dark circles under her eyes and a sleepy expression on her face. She hugged her mother, then looked happily at the black horse. "Wow! Cool, is this the horse we get to ride to Edoras?" Alex asked excitedly. She looked to Eomer for confirmation.

"It will be as soon as you mount her," he promised, and Alex scrambled on top of the small horse quickly. Eoin didn't move from her position at the rear of the horse, and Eomer saw the fear flash in her eyes. He motioned for the redheaded girl to come to him, and she obeyed. They walked a little distance from Alex, who was busy talking to the horse. "What troubles you?" he asked her. She ran her hands through her short cropped red hair.

"Lots of things," she said. "I'm scared we might run into Orcs on the way to Edoras, I'm scared we'll get lost, and…oh, God, you're going to laugh," Eoin said, sighing and looking away. Eomer slid a finger under her chin and tipped it upwards. Her bright blue eyes were dimmed with fear.

"I will not laugh at your expense, Eoin," he said softly. Eoin didn't look away from his eyes.

"I'm scared of horses," she said bluntly. "Ever since I was a kid and I watched my brother get thrown by one of them. When I was riding with Alex yesterday, that was my first time on a horse before. I'm terrified I'll lose control of it and it'll throw me."

"Nightrider will not throw you," he assured her. "She is a calm horse - she wouldn't throw you." Eoin shut her eyes tightly then opened them again, focusing her dark cerulean gaze on Eomer's chocolate brown eyes.

"You promise?" she whispered, her voice sounding very quiet and childish. Impulsively, Eomer bent down and kissed her cheek, brushing a chaste kiss across the freckled skin.

"I promise." he answered. Eoin felt a tingling, burning sensation where his lips had connected with her jawbone, and her stomach was doing somersaults that had nothing to do with her fear of horses. She nodded slowly, then he released her. She backed up and he boosted her into the saddle. Eoin gave one final glance at Eomer's dark chocolate eyes, then offered him a slight smile. He returned it, and Eoin dug her heels into Nightrider's sides, urging the small black horse forward. They took off into the new day, leaving behind them a troop of soldiers and one very confused - yet pleasantly so - horse lord.


End file.
